


The Final Entry

by AngieMalon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet, Family Fluff, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Reminiscing, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngieMalon/pseuds/AngieMalon
Summary: Haytham Keway is an old man now, and the edges he gained through out his life has been smoothed out. He retired from the Templar Order to live on a farm. Connor visits him occasionally, and one time brought a surprise guest with him.
Relationships: Haytham Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	The Final Entry

From Haytham E. Kenway’s journal

December 16, 1796 

Christmas time is near. 

Although I don't recall the last time I celebrated this holiday, let alone with my family. My family, that is right, I do not have a whole one anymore. Do I consider Reginald Birch as my family? I suppose since I consider the Chateau as my second home, I think he was a family, in a strange way. I recall that fateful day when I confronted my own son, Connor. Who, even when injured, was ever the same, with fires burning in his eyes, the fires of revenge, the fires of hatred, and the fires of determination. I envy him, I truly do, he seems to be able to express his emotions openly. Had my father not been killed so early, I would have become an assassin just like him. 

Anyway, he spared my life. Much to my shock and amusement, it took all my self control to not laugh in his face right then and there. Why sparing the life of someone who wanted to die? I do not have much to look forward to, I can not go back to be the Templar Grandmaster again, my families were shattered, and I can not hope to reconcile with my son. What was left for me to do then waiting to die by his blade? And yet, he did not kill me, he retracted his blade and I heard the deafening sound of canon balls falling all around us. I knew in that in instant, that he was waiting for the canon balls to take me, to shatter me into thousand pieces. And yet, that did not happen either, as he pushed me out of the reach of a canon ball that had fallen a bit too close to where we stand. He protected me, a foolish act. Still, I instinctively reached out and checked for any additional external injuries he must have sustained due to his recklessness earlier, thanked God, I found none. 

After that, our relationship improved. I retired on a farm, where I will live out the remaining of my life as a simple man. Connor comes and visits me occasionally, and sometimes he will stay overnight. I was glad to see that the wound he sustained before our fight has healed quiet nicely, and he has since recovered from it. He had also acquired a habit of sending me gifts he made himself, mostly scarfs or hats he made from fur or pelts of animals he hunted. They are not as good as the ones I wore during childhood, which were made by the best tailors in London, but nevertheless they are warm and comfortable.  
Connor had been busy with reestablishing the Colonial Brotherhood, but he writes to me quiet frequently and I have kept all the letters he sent to me in a cabinet in my study for safe keeping. 

Fires are roaring inside the fireplace, keeping the whole room warm. Connor promised to visit me today, and he will bring a special guest with him. I have baked some cookies, which I will share with him when he arrives. He doesn't particularly like my cooking, but I will try. The tree has already been set up, I just need to put ornaments on it. 

Knocks on the door snapped me out of my thoughts and I got up from my chair to open it. Connor is there, wrapped in a heavy looking coat, beside him is a little girl, no more than 8 years old. When she looked up at me, I can see the resemblance between her and Connor. I let them in, and closed the door. I waited for them to take off their winter coats and boots. They spoke in a language I do not understand, so I decided to return to the kitchen and prepare some hot drinks. When they entered the living room, I have placed the cookies and some hot chocolate on the table. The girl’s eyes light up when she saw the sugar cookies, but Connor made her wash her hands first. 

” She is a fine young lady, ” I said, sitting down and took a sip of hot chocolate. ” Of course, she is your granddaughter, ” Connor smiled proudly, biting into a sugar cookie, ” it's better this time.” He shrugged, taking another bite. I stopped to look at the cheerful girl who had returned to the table and grabbed a cookie for herself, biting into it with a smile on her face. ” I’m a grandfather, now. ” I said ruefully, ” I wish my father was able to see her.” Connor smiled gently and carassed his daughter’s hair. ” I wish he will be able to see all of them. I hope you will too. ” The girl turned to look at me with big, curious eyes. ” Raké:ni, he is my grandfather?” She asked in fluent English, I sighed in relief. ” Yes, Io:nhiòte. He is your grandfather, go say hi to him.” I didn't even try to pronounce her name, so I just reached out and stroked her long, dark hair. Her hair is soft just like her father. 

I’m thankful that Connor actually wrote my granddaghter’s name down on a piece of paper, so at least I can write her proper name down on my journal. Io:nhiòte regarded me for a few moments before leaning back, a hand on her nose, frowning. ” Grandfather stinks!!” She cried out. I was dumbfounded for a second and laughed, a small, hearty laugh, one I hadn’t had in years. ” Io:nhiòte, don’t say this to your grandfather, ” Connor chided lightly, but he, too, is smiling. Then, he turned his gaze onto me. ” You are getting old, father, ” he observed, taking another sip of the hot chocolate. I know precisely what he is talking about. Age has finally claimed me, and I can no longer wield my sword or hold my gun, getting up and down my horse is out of the question. Both my mind and body are not as sharp as before, and although I can accomplish simple daily tasks, I can feel my energy draining faster. Lines and wrinkles are crawling all over my face, and my hair is as white as snow. Connor might have spared my life, but the greatest assassin of all: time, is slowly claiming my life. I’m not even sure I will survive long enough to see the dawn of new year. 

Sensing my worries, Connor walked up to me and pulled me into a loving embrace. He had been hugging me more since we reconciled. And I enjoyed this gesture of tenderness. ” Son, ” I started, ” I know I can not be forgiven for the horrible things I’ve done in my life, and quite frankly, neither will your mother. Still, I’m proud of you, son. You have shown great courage, strength, and conviction, all noble qualities. I’m sure your children are proud of you too.” Connor nodded and hugged me tighter. ” I love you, father.” He said and I buried my face into the fabric of his shirt and started to sob. ” Father, we are here. You are not alone anymore, and, ” he gestured towards his daughter, ” I don't think Io:nhiòte wants to see her grandfather sad.” Calming myself down, I felt a slight tag on my sleeves and turned to see her looking up at me, worried. I reached up and patted her on the head. ” Sorry, I must have worried you.” I said apologetically. But she shook her head and smiled. “ Since you are all here, why not help me decorate the Christmas tree?” both Connor and my granddaughter agreed, so we spent the afternoon putting ornaments up on the tree. 

That evening, they stayed for dinner. Connor opted to cook as he doesn't trust my skills in the kitchen. I talked with Io:nhiòte. She told me about going hunting with her father, how she learned that she has a special vision shares between herself and her father, and was surprised to learn that me and her great grandfather also shared this ability. She started that this ability has helped her hunt. Out of curiosity, she asked me if I had any siblings like she does. I answered yes, although the memories of Jenny still pained me. ” You must cherish the memories you had with your family, ” I told her, and I meant it. I don't want her to experience the same loss and tragedy I have experienced during my childhood. The dinner Connor made was delicious, he made meat and hot soup to combat the cold, and some vegetables to balance it out. I watched as Connor laughed with his daughter, and suddenly, I felt at the pieces have fallen into place, and I feel content. 

After dinner, Connor opted to return to his village early, as to not worry his wife and other children. I hugged both of them and watched as they disappear into the snowy evening. As I closed the door, the house is quiet again save for the roaring fire. I walked to my study and wrote this last journal entry. It will remain closed until my son, or others find it again. For now, however, I will read by the fireplace until sleep catches up on me.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not satisfied with the second chapter of ” It's Alright now”, so I decided to revise it. Also, sugar cookies are awesome, I don't care what everyone else says.


End file.
